


Amnesia

by saralaufeyson



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saralaufeyson/pseuds/saralaufeyson
Summary: Tom and Sara have been married for a few years and dated a few more before that. One night, filled with anxiety in anticipation of Tom’s return following a particularly long bout of filming, and channeling that anxious energy into scrubbing their kitchen floor with some diluted bleach, the fumes got to Sara’s head. Standing on wobbly legs to try and reach her phone before she passed out was a bad idea—she faints, hitting her head on the kitchen island on the way down. She wakes up remembering some things and forgetting others.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello loves! 
> 
> Here's the deal with this work--I was watching an episode of The Simpsons, where Marge faints because of the cleaning products she's using, and wakes up remembering everyone but her husband, Homer. Then I imagined our very own Mr. Hiddleston longing to jog OFC's memory in the same position. The rest--as they say-- is history. 
> 
> Also, please note my apologies in advance for any inaccuracies--medical, or otherwise. Just let it work for the sake of the plot. Heh Heh.

“Sara? Sara, darling? Nurse? Would you page the doctor? She’s waking up,” Tom spoke frantically, and he was sure he looked like a strung-out crazy person to the hospital staff who’d been steadily shooting him looks of curious pity as he struggled to get comfortable in the small chair next to his wife’s hospital bed for the past two nights. He hadn’t slept in almost 30 hours, but now, seeing her eyelids exhibit their first movement since he’d found her lying on their kitchen floor, a small pool of blood leaking out from under the back of her head, he felt more awake than he’d ever been.

“Sara? Can you hear me, sweetheart?” He struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice, he didn’t want to stress her any more than she likely was already.

Sara stretched a bit, groaning at the sore and exhausted feeling permeating her muscles. She felt as if she had been sleeping for days.

She suddenly became aware of the IV needle in her hand, and the steady _beep, beep, beep,_ of a heart monitor somewhere.

She blinked her eyes a few times, finally opening them to a very concerned and albeit ruffled looking, handsome gentleman.

“Doctor?” She managed with her dry, dry throat.

“What? Darling, I—” Tom began, confusion colouring his features before he was interrupted.

“Good evening all. I’m Dr. Lincoln. Sara, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” She said, blinking wearily. Dr. Lincoln smiled sympathetically, pulling a small flashlight out of his pocket and nodding as Tom moved aside so that he could check Sara’s vitals.

As he flashed the light in each of her eyes, Tom cleared his throat, “Dr. Lincoln?”

“Yes, Mr. Hiddleston?”

“Er, she called me Doctor when she first woke up.” Sara looked at the gentleman whose presence she’d forgotten, confused. As Tom met her curious gaze, his heart sank further into his stomach.

Dr. Lincoln regarded Sara with renewed interest, “Sara, can you tell me who the current President of the United States is?”

“Donald Trump—Or, I guess it’s Joe Biden now, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is. And, what is your mother’s name?”

“Katherine.” She answered immediately.

Dr. Lincoln gave the nurse a look, before turning back to Sara, “Sara, do you recognize who this man is?”

Sara stared at the handsome man’s grief-stricken face, trying to ascertain who he was, “I’m sorry, no. You seem upset, I’m sorry. Would you remind me?”

Tom’s eyes widened as he stared into his wife’s eyes, shock numbing the edges of his consciousness, “I’m…Darling, we’re married. I’m your _husband_.”

Sara’s eyes widened, as she looked Tom up and down for the first time. Somewhere her subconscious registered how panty dropping-ly handsome he was, but the major thought overriding her brain was alarm.

“Then…then why don’t I know who you are?” She asked him. Before Tom could burst into tears, Dr. Lincoln interrupted the exchange.

“Sara, you are exhibiting signs of post traumatic amnesia. I believe this is temporary because neither your CT nor your MRI showed signs of neurological trauma. We’ll schedule some more extensive tests to be sure, but all signs are pointing to something quite temporary. Mr. Hiddleston, can I speak to you privately for a moment?”

“Yes, doctor.” Tom shot Sara a sidelong reassuring glance before following the doctor out of the private room.

“Mr. Hiddleston, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Tom closed his eyes, silently praying, “What is it?”

“Although, everything I said is true, I am afraid we can’t be sure just _how_ temporary this whole situation will be. We’ll know more following these tests that I’m scheduling over the next few hours, however I’d like to offer some advice. Be on your best behaviour. Don’t give her any reason to question your presence. This will only become more difficult for you if you lose her favour.”

“I understand.” He answered bleakly, pressing the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve some of the growing tension behind his eyes.

“Some technicians will be up shortly to take her to various tests, and once we rule out any injury, I’m afraid you’ll have to take her home, and take it from there.”

“How long…do you think?” Tom asked.

“It depends on a number of factors, but anywhere from as short as a few days to a few months.”

Tom let out a deep sigh.

If only he hadn’t made a habit of leaving her alone for longer and longer stretches of time.

At least she was breathing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Tom return home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot more happens in this chapter...a LOT more...

“Almost there, love.” Tom murmured softly as he guided her up the extensive staircase that led to their master bedroom, “Do you need the loo, or would you like to get into bed?”   
“I’d love a bath, if I’m honest.” She yawned.   
“Of course.” 

Tom placed her gingerly on the edge of their king-size bed, causing her to supress a small giggle at his careful handling, before rushing back downstairs to grab her things. Sara looked around the large room and was intrigued to find that she recognised some things and had no idea what others were. Her eyes settled on two doors on the opposite wall and found herself wondering which was inevitably the bathroom and which was the closet.   
In the days following the initial prognosis, Sara had some to remember more than when she’d first awoken. She recalled elements of her house where she lived with Tom and had a vague recollection of the fact that she was married. He had asked her several times if she preferred him to fly her mother out to stay with them, or if she wanted to go stay with her family in the U.S. All of his fussing over her in this regard, as well as an earnest recollection of the events that had led to this accident, along with profuse apology on his part, led to her feeling comfortable enough to go home with him following 5 days in recovery at the hospital. Still, she remembered very little of their time together, or the dynamics of their relationship. A curious thing she discovered upon googling him, is that she found much, much more than she expected. As it turned out, she was married to a highly respected actor, loki, in fact. 

“Okay, love. I put your hospital clothes in the laundry. Still fancy a bath?” He asked, noticing her puzzled stare directed at the doors. 

Sara redirected her gaze to Tom, nodding politely. He offered his arm as she stood up slowly, so as not to disturb her head. She still had a dull ache where the doctor had stitched her up. Tom set her down on the edge of tiled seating surrounding the large jacuzzi bath. He supressed a smirk at her obviously bewildered expression, until it dawned on him that she might never remember the experience of designing this bathroom to her dream specifications. 

Tom mindlessly assembled the bath as he had a million times for her before, pouring in the bubble bath, some essential oils and a touch of Epsom salts. As he left the tap running to fill the tub, he reached toward her waist to begin unbuttoning her cardigan. It wasn’t until he moved to push the fully unbuttoned cardigan off her shoulders that he realised how still she had become. He looked up to meet her nervous gaze and frowned apologetically.   
“I’m…sorry, darling.” He drew back his hands, clasping them behind his back.   
“Don’t be, it’s me…clearly.” She said awkwardly.   
He sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he reached to shut off the tub, “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”   
Sara was silent in response, staring nervously at the floor.   
Tom moved to leave, stopping to fiddle with some controls that brought the lighting down to a more pleasant level. Just as he was about the shut the door behind him, she spoke up, “Tom?”   
He pressed two fingers to his tear ducts to try and stop the tears from spilling over as he turned back to her, “Yes darling?”   
Sara frowned at that, “I’m sorry. I can’t know…but I feel how difficult this must be for a kind, warm, and considerate man such as yourself. I don’t feel unsafe, or uncomfortable with you. If I could just have a moment to myself to slip into the tub? I don’t think I’ll be able to wash my own hair without getting the stitches wet, though,”   
Tom feigned an easy smile, “Absolutely my love. I should have suggested the same in the first place. My mistake.”

As Tom unbuttoned his own shirt and pants inside the spacious walk in closet they shared, he found himself struggling to breathe. He let the tears he’d been holding in for a week finally fall, leaning against the wall as he did so. He sincerely hoped Sara had heard none of it as he grabbed her bathrobe for her to wear once she was done. 

Meanwhile, Sara undressed herself the rest of the way, hyper aware of the far away sound of sniffling and struggling breaths in between quiet sobs. Her heart broke for the husband she barely knew but was certain deserved so much more than he was receiving from her. She knew she loved him, she just didn’t know anything else about him and it was driving her mad. 

She turned her attention to the bath, holding onto the attached railing as she descended into the warm bubbles. Just as she’d settled in, she heard a soft knock at the door. 

“Come in,” she tried for pleasant. He gave her a soft smile as he shut the door behind him, informing her that he’d brought one of her favourite robes. Somewhere in the back of her injured mind, she knew she should have responded, or at least nodded in acknowledgement, or even taken more serious note of his reddened eyes, but she was driven to distraction by his broad and bare chest, and the lines of muscle that descended into the grey sweatpants hanging lowly on his hips as he walked over to her. Tom cleared his throat, running a hand softly over her hair, careful to avoid her stitches. Her eyes fluttered shut and she hummed, “Hmm..thank you…for the robe, for the bath…the help.” 

Tom struggled to keep his eyes on her face as he hummed in response. Her chest was just barely covered by the bubbles, and he recalled instantly how good it felt to hold her in his arms, feeling her breasts press against his chest, his lips on her neck…He shook his head in an effort to clear it. 

He reached into a large cabinet just to the right of the tub and asked her softly, “Sponge or loofah?”   
She opened her eyes in thought, “Which do I prefer?”   
He chuckled, “Loofahs for showers, and sponges for baths.”   
“Sounds about right.” He handed her the large, soft bath sponge as he grabbed her shampoo, settling himself on the large expanse of tile behind her.  
She lathered up the sponge with one of various body washes sitting to her right and began soaping herself up. It felt good to finally be rid of the smell of hospital lingering on her skin. 

Tom lathered up some shampoo in his hands and rubbed his fingers in small circles on her temples, causing her to let out a surprised and satisfied groan of relief. Some of the throbbing in her head instantly subsided. Tom bit his lip, her groan causing his cock to jump to attention, albeit against his wishes. 

“Tell me if the pressure is too much,” he said, adding, “near the injury,” to avoid confusion about the type of pressure he was referring to.   
“Ohhh kayy..” She sighed, leaning back into his hands. He moved his ministrations to the base of her skull and she almost moaned in pleasure. He smiled, glad that he still had an effect on her despite the current circumstances. He noticed that she’d abandoned the sponge, lost in the feeling his fingers were evoking. At this point in the week, he was becoming aware that he was starving for any attention he could get from her. He rinsed her head carefully, with the detachable showerhead, and then picked up the sponge from where it lay floating. He gently prodded her forward so that she was resting against her drawn-up knees, so he could wash and massage her back. Her eyes could have rolled back in her head with the way his hands felt against her skin. Once he was done with her back he lifted her right arm, running the sponge along her underarm as well, eliciting a shiver as it grazed the side of her breast. He did the same to the other arm, before clearing his throat, breaking the warm, tense, trance they had entered for many minutes now.   
“Would you like to finish up?” He asked, softly. 

Sara looked up at him, staring into his stormy blue eyes with longing. She stared at his face blankly, as if contemplating something, and her brow furrowed. A telltale sign that she was deep in thought. 

“Darling?” He prompted.   
Her eyes flitted back up to his, “You’re my husband.” She stated softly.  
He nodded, an uneasy smile crossing his features.  
“You have magic fingers.” She added. He grinned, recalling other times she’d described his fingers as magic.   
“I’m finding myself…wanting you. Badly.” She revealed, earnestly. The breath in Tom’s throat caught.   
“I want to ask you to continue with that sponge, to help me clean everywhere. But I’m not sure that’s fair of me to ask of you.” She pouted. 

Tom smiled, “This chemistry you’re feeling…it’s always been like this between us.” He ran his hands lightly across her back, “The lightest touch…prolonged eye contact in a crowded room…” he smirked, “it never took much.”   
She bit her lip, nodding in agreement.   
“But I don’t want you to end up in a position—for lack of a better term—that results in a regression. We’ve made so much progress this past week, I’m so happy you’re even home. My wife is home with me. Thank God.” His voice broke on the last word.   
Sara reached up and squeezed his forearm reassuringly, rubbing his skin with her thumb in a manner she did often in the past. It made him smile sadly.   
“I don’t want you to feel unsafe, uncomfortable, or unsure here, ever.” 

Sara smiled up at him. She felt love for him blossom in her chest. He had to be hurting by now, after the 7 rough days he’d just endured in the hospital, and the month he’d spent away for work prior. She herself was certainly longing for him, but she did not want to appear as if she was using him. She felt a deep connection to this man, she just felt fuzzy on details. 

“I understand. I don’t want that either. This home, this attention to detail, your actions…I can feel our love so strongly here. I just…I want to experience it fully. I want to know what it’s “always been like between us”. But if you aren’t ready…” 

“You think me not ready?” He asked, incredulously, “Please.”   
Sara smirked, “It sounds like you need time.”   
“I think you’re the one who needed time, darling. I still haven’t seen your breasts, and I’m your bloody husband.” Good natured humour evident in his voice.   
She chuckled, taking his hand from where it rested idly on his knee and guiding it toward her right breast as she leaned as far back toward him as the tub would allow, “Would you help me get clean then, I’m so tired.”  
Tom’s cock was rock hard, he found it difficult to concentrate and wanted more than he should almost immediately.   
Tom inhaled deeply, withdrawing his hand from her breast slowly. He shifted off of his perch until his feet were on the floor, watching the disappointment colour her features. She bit her lip, staring nervously down at the bubbles and feeling rejected. Tom untied the waistband of his sweats, removing both the pants and his boxers at once, before gently prodding her shoulder forward so he could slip into the bath behind her. Sara bit her lip, avoiding direct eye contact with his member. She felt like a virgin now, feeling the hard planes of his body drag against her smooth skin as he settled behind her, with his legs stretching on her either side.   
He squeezed some body wash onto his hands and lathered it up generously with the sponge, “May I?”   
“Please,” came her answering murmur.  
He dragged the sponge across her breasts, taking care to stimulate her sensitive nipples. She shivered against him deliciously. He often brought her to orgasm just by touching her breasts, he just wasn’t sure if that would be too much for her, too soon.   
“Please tell me how you feel. Be open with me. I don’t want to do anything that overwhelms you.” He said softly in her ear.   
She nodded, distracted by the feeling of the sponge dragging against her taut nipples, back and forth.   
“I’d like verbal confirmation, dear.” He said, as he squeezed a nipple particularly tightly. She squeaked at the violent throb she felt in between her legs as he did so.   
“I’ll tell you if I begin to hate this.” She said breathlessly, leaning her head back over his shoulder and arching her back to encourage more of this glorious massage.  
His hand suddenly left her breast, guiding her head forward to a straighter position, “Please don’t hurt yourself.”   
“Oh, sorry. You’re right.” She said, as she straightened her back out. Tom shifted up a bit and pulled her directly back against the centre of his chest, his chin resting just above the top of her head, “You can lean against me.” He told her softly.

He moved on, running the sponge down her stomach and across her hips, finally reaching in between her legs. Without hesitation he dragged the sponge ruthlessly along her hyper sensitized folds while stroking her opening with his other hand, grazing her clit as he ran the sponge back and forth, her thighs struggling to shut themselves against the onslaught. His index and middle finger drew tight circles around her entrance, teasing her something fierce. She let out a drawn-out moan.  
“You like that, darling?” His deep voice spoke right into her left ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine, “Do you want more?”   
She nodded, her back arching as he pressed down right on her clit momentarily, “I want it inside me, Tom.”   
His finger began to circle her clit and his other hand ran the sponge along her skin. She felt overly sensitized while also feeling like she wanted to pull his hand away and take deep breaths until the blood stopped throbbing in her pussy. 

“T-Tom, I—” Her words cut off with a gasp as he abandoned the sponge completely, using one hand to pull back the hood of her throbbing clit, and using the other to assault the sensitive nub directly this time with a few rough taps.  
“Yes, darling, tell me…” He said softly in her ear.  
“I…Ah! I can’t think…” She mumbled.   
“Do you want me to stop, my love?” He asked earnestly.   
“No!” She answered quickly, beginning to rock her hips in time with his circling finger, grinding her ass against his hard cock through no fault or intention of her own. Tom grit his teeth.   
“Okay baby, I’ll keep going.” He told her with a grin in his voice. His fingers began circling faster under the water, while his left hand rose up to squeeze her breast, making her arch her back almost violently.   
“Oh fuck…” She moaned, her ass dragging itself along his pelvis unintentionally, but so perfectly.   
Sara’s brain was so soaked in pleasure and anticipation at this point that she failed to notice the fingers of Tom’s other hand dragging slowly toward her back entrance. He wondered if she remembered taking him in her ass like his good girl right before he’d left for the airport. As his finger reached its destination, he pressed lightly against the rosebud opening. She gasped intensely, arching further. As his fingers continued to circle her clit, his other hand began to press deeper and deeper until he was inside her ass to the first knuckle. She let out a high-pitched moan, her nails digging into his toned, muscled thighs framing hers.   
“You like that baby?” He asked, quickening his pace on her clit and beginning a steady pulsing rhythm in her back entrance.   
She whimpered, “Please,”.   
“Please what, honey?”   
“Please—unh!—Please, God, make me cum,” Her ass grinded down against his hand, inadvertently pushing his finger deeper inside her making her moan loudly.   
Tom contemplated her request. Some part of him had wanted to draw her pleasure out further, to remind her of who she was married to. He realised now that she was still that same enduring wife of his who patiently allowed him to fly off for long stretches of time, in order to do what he was passionate about. He should be allowing her to cum fast and hard, after the month and a half she’d had, no doubt.   
“Okay, darling.” He murmured in her ear, pressing the finger in her ass deep as it could go, while simultaneously circling his finger on her clit faster and with more pressure.   
“Fuck,” She groaned, struggling to pull away in his embrace.  
As she neared her climax, Tom leaned down and ran his tongue along the edge of her ear, dipping it inside. She whimpered, her brain struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensation. Her hips began a steady rocking rhythm against her will, the sensation of her ass dragging against his thick member making her almost dizzy. Tom groaned, the deep, dark sound filling her ears.  
“Don’t struggle baby, just makes it worse.” He chuckled right into her ear. Somewhere in her mind Sara felt anger that he was laughing at her, but she couldn’t focus hard enough to say anything.   
Tom sped up the circling of his fingers on her clit, the noises she was making encouraging him. As her moans became higher and higher in pitch, he delved back into her ear with his tongue, pressing into her ass with greater pressure and pinching her clit roughly, pushing her over the edge. She let out a slightly strangled sounding moan of pleasure, rocking against him steadily as she rode out the intense orgasm. 

“What the fuck, Tom.” She gasped out between shallow breaths. He laughed at the unexpected sentiment, wiggling the finger still inside her and making her squeak, “Problem, darling?”   
She raised herself up using the edges of the tub, silently asking him to remove his finger before she got too excited again.   
She turned to look him in the eye, “Is this what you’re like all the time?”   
He chuckled before holding her gaze seriously, “It only gets better.”   
Sara sighed, leaning back against his chest, her eyelids fluttering shut.   
She became painfully aware of his erection pressing against her lower back, “And what am I like?”   
Tom sighed, “You’re more than I’ve ever dreamt of.”   
“That’s a lot to live up to.” 

“Don’t worry over that, love. I’ll always be here to remind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter, what'd ya think?

**Author's Note:**

> More to come... Would love to know what you think! xx


End file.
